


The Sight

by witchymarvelspacecase



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:59:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchymarvelspacecase/pseuds/witchymarvelspacecase





	The Sight

Most people have a story or two about a friend, or loved one who  _ knew _ things. Whether they predicted something would happen or could tell you what someone was thinking, people seemed to have a lot of those anecdotes to share. It was safe enough for you to tell people that your grandmother had always  _ known _ things; no one really questioned it. No one believed it either, but that didn’t bother you so much. What did bother you was that you couldn’t tell people that  _ you _ knew things.

You had visions. Not all the time, but frequently enough. When you were younger, those visions were mostly harmless; knowing where your friend’s cat was after it had disappeared, saving a cup of dark juice from falling onto the carpet. It seemed your  _ gift _ matured with you however. When you saw your first murder, and had been unable to convince any of the police officers in your small town of what you’d seen, you had all but broken down. 

They’d found the body days later, in exactly the place you’d told them the murder would happen.

After that, you tried to fight back the visions. If you couldn’t prevent what you saw, then you didn’t want to see it. Unfortunately, no matter what you tried, the visions came when they wanted. You did what you could, but there were always some things you couldn’t stop; some people you couldn’t save. Each time, it took a part of your heart. You felt like shit each time, even knowing that there was nothing more you could have done. 

You volunteered a lot, trying to balance the darkness you felt. The opportunity to travel overseas and help out in a small country sounded wonderful. You were helping to build sustainable housing, the project backed by a large charity foundation. You went to bed sore each night, but happy to have helped. Not that the effects your efforts would be enjoyed for long. Sokovia was doomed.

You hadn’t known that. You hadn’t known that thousands of miles away, the Avengers had unintentionally created, and then loosed, a monster intent on destroying humanity. Ultron. 

….

You had been taking a short break, just getting some air, when you heard the first police sirens. More and more sirens sounded, and you saw people starting to file out of buildings. Huge crowds of people, all moving away from the city center. 

But no one was panicking. You heard no shouts. No one was running, or pushing other people out of their way.

_ Something is very wrong _ … Squinting, you tried to make out any small details out of the hordes of people around you, you could almost see… something. It was an odd, shapeless, red mist that you saw enveloping the crowds. You could see a matching red glint in the eyes of the people who passed closest to you.

Enhanced individuals had been a popular news topic since the attack on New York, but aside from yourself, you hadn’t ever had contact with anyone with powers. You’d never experienced anything like this mist before, but you were willing to hazard a guess that it was some sort of superpower. 

You could feel your heartbeat kick up in your chest. Even more so when you looked around and noticed that the red fog had surrounded you. But nothing happened. The entire population of Sokovia flowed calmly around you, but you felt no urge to join them.

You probably should have. No, you  _ really _ should have, but you didn’t. Instead, you walked against the flow of people, toward the center of the city. As the groups of people became more sparse, you started to move closer to the buildings lining the street, ducking around corners as you walked. You didn’t know what you were walking towards, but there was a thick feeling of tension in the air.

_ What the EVER loving FUCK am I doing?! _ You were woefully unprepared for any situation, yet you walked on. You had nothing but basic first aid and self defense training. You could shoot a gun well enough, but you weren’t armed. You had  _ no _ business walking towards whatever you were walking towards, but you continued. Something was drawing you in. Like steel to a magnet, you were pulled to the church in the city center. Which was where you spotted the robot. A humanoid shape made entirely of metal, waited in the church, alone but not for long. 

Moments later the sky was filled with more robots. Replicas of the original.

_ I’m sorry. Did I say I was unprepared BEFORE? Jesus-motherfucking-christ! _

Time blurred around you. You saw so many faces - people stuck, or trapped - people you felt compelled to remember. You made note of where each person was… Why?

No time to wonder about that. Suddenly, you were standing to the side of a new building, watching a different scene unfold.

A young boy. A man with a bow and arrows. The robots. A second man who seemed to appear from nowhere. The second man protected the first and the little boy, taking multiple bullets. Instead of running to the fallen man, trying to help, you looked at your watch, then at the street signs.

Time blurred again and you found yourself in bed. A large, comfortable bed with insanely soft sheets that you knew was  _ not _ the cot and sleeping bag you’d been given upon arriving in Sokovia. You also weren’t alone. As you struggled to understand, a warm, muscled arm slipped around your waist. The arm tugged you, turning your body to face a man that you recognized. The man who’d sacrificed himself not moments before. He looked quite different. His expression sleepy, but happy. His hair a mess, but soft and clean. He smiled at you before tugging you again so your body lay atop his, your faces close together.

“Hey,” you said in a sleepy voice. You were happy and comfortable, even though the logical part of your brain reminded you that you didn’t even know this man’s name. The situation felt familiar, as if you’d been in much the same position many times before. 

“Hi,” the man replied, his smile growing as he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Good morning, my sibilӑ.” He had such a soft expression on his face, and his hand caressed you so gently. 

“You’re going to have to stop calling me that eventually,” you grumbled playfully.

“Which part? ‘Sibilӑ’? Now why would I do that? Your gift saved my life, and the lives of many others. I can’t see any reason I would not use a title that so aptly suits you. And ‘my’? Well, you  _ are _ mine, and that won’t be ending anytime soon, or  _ ever _ for that matter.” He rolled both of you, so his body was pressing yours into the mattress. “My sibilӑ.” He pressed a kiss to your lips and you could feel a warmth spreading through your chest.

“My Pietro,” you gasped when he pulled away, breaking the kiss. He wasted no time before kissing you again. 

…

You woke on a gasp. You were laying on the ground. On the partly finished floor of a housing unit you’d been helping to create. You’d taken a 2x4 to the temple and had been knocked unconscious, at least that’s what your friends saw happen. 

You didn’t voice any of the questions you had running through your mind as the team medic checked you over. You knew no one would believe what you’d seen. Most likely, you’d be taken to the hospital and checked for brain damage. So as you allowed the the medic to look into your eyes, you sorted thorough what you’d seen. In the end, you were left with one question. How would you save the second man - Pietro?

…

It was 6 hours later, but a lot of the information you recalled was at least written down. You’d gotten yourself a map of Sokovia. On the map, you marked the places that you had seen someone trapped in your vision. And you marked the spot where you’d seen Pietro - the place he’d died. That particular scene played over, and over, and  _ over _ in your mind. You knew the time, the place, and the cause. But how would you change the outcome?

One well placed explosive. One nearly impossible shot. 

…

A week passed by.

You heard the sirens, and the most intense feeling of deja vu hit you a moment before your heart began to race. The attack had begun - the clock had started. 

 

…

It struck you as funny, that in a crisis situation, some things could become so easy. Like breaking into a police armory for instance. A week’s worth of planning and research, and all you’d really had to do was walk right in. No one had been there to stop you. That week’s worth of research had also given you a rudimentary idea of how to use the RPG you’d stolen, so it hadn’t been entirely wasted. 

You had good aim, had planned as much as possible, and had the weapon that had the best chance of taking down the jet that would fire the shots to kill Pietro. Now you just needed to believe your vision and trust that you could do what you needed to.

Your route to Pietro from the police station was circuitous, but planned and timed carefully so that you could help as many of the people from your vision as you possible. You told yourself you would go back for the people you couldn’t reach in time, though a part of you knew that you may have been lying to yourself.

Ducking and weaving, you stayed out of sight of the robots and the Avengers both. You had to reach your destination with time to set up your shot, and you couldn’t let anything stop you.

When you came to the cross-street, you slowed to a stop and set you pilfered weapon down carefully before peering around the corner of a building. The child was there, but Pietro and the other man were not. Leaving your weapon, you darted forward, toward the little boy.

He saw you coming, and readily jumped into your arms. You ran with him, back to the corner where you’d left your weapon. 

“Stay here,” you said in Sokovian. “I will get you back to your mother, but we have to wait for the right moment. Understand?” The boy was shaken, probably in shock, but he nodded. When you tucked him into a small outcropping created by fallen debris, he made no effort to move.

Seconds felt like hours, until you saw the first man from your vision. He was looking in just the place the boy had been. Knowing only moments existed between that action and Pietro arriving, you raised the RPG. There… The jet entered your field of vision. You spotted it and adjusted your aim. Bullets ripped through the ground in a line towards the man, and you knew Pietro would step between them.

_ Deep breath in. Sight. Pull the trigger on the exhale. _

The explosion backlit Pietro as he blurred into existence right where the bullets would have been headed had your shot been off. It wasn’t.

Confused, Pietro and the other man froze for a moment. They looked at the debris falling from where the jet had been, and then they looked in your direction.

And you waved, like an idiot. You’d planned everything, but not what you would do  _ after _ you saved Pietro. So you just looked completely nuts. Armed and nuts.

Apparently Pietro, and the man who’s name you learned was Clint, were more interested in getting you and the little boy onto the large flying carrier with everyone else, than they were concerned about your mental status. They shuffled you both forward as quickly as possible while still dodging attacks, and firing off a few of their own. You added as many shots as you could with the handguns you had also swiped from the police station. Though your shots didn’t seem all that effective, you caught both men giving you an appraising look. 

You had been about to board the shuttle that would take you up to the carrier when your vision cut out. You stumbled to a halt as an image of a little girl appeared before you. She was covered in dirt and blood, calling for a cat that had climbed up a tree. She was crying in desperation, but the cat was too terrified to move, and too far away for her to reach. You  _ knew _ that little girl wouldn’t leave without her cat; she would die. You could just barely make out a street sign before you shook yourself from the vision, turned back, and sprinted away from the transport. 

Clint and Pietro both yelled after you, but you paid them no mind; the little girl was close, and you could reach her before anything happened, but only if you hurried. Down an alley, and over a broken fence, you saw her.

The cat was on a low enough branch that, though the girl couldn’t reach it, you could. You scooped up the terrified cat and the little girl without breaking stride, and hopped back over the broken fence. You’d just exited the alley when Pietro appeared in front of you.

“Are you insane?! We need to leave and you go running off to--” he cut himself off when he noticed the little girl who was tearfully clutching a cat, in your arms. Pietro still looked angry, but he didn’t say anything else as he picked you up and  _ ran _ .

He set you down outside the transport, but caught your arm when you went to step away. 

“Ah, you aren’t leaving my sight,” he said in a firm tone.

Your eyebrows rose, and you knew your expression all but shouted “oh really?”, but you didn’t pull away. 

The little girl clung to you, and though she seemed calm, the hold she had on you, and on the cat, was near bruising. Pietro spoke to her for a moment, asking her name, asking where her parents had been when she’d run off looking for her kitty. She didn’t seems capable of answering.

“I think she’s in shock,” you said quietly to Pietro, slowly stroking the girl’s dirty hair. “She may not be able to answer for a while.”

Pietro turned and looked around the transport. You guessed he was looking for someone, but you didn’t know who.

He spotted Clint, and through him was able to locate his sister, Wanda. Wanda, as it turned out, was the source of the red fog that you had seen in your vision. The fog that had the people calmly leaving the city.

Wanda’s powers freaked you out, but they were immensely helpful in locating the girl’s father. He clutched the girl to his chest, pressed kisses to the top of her head and murmured to her as she began to cry. The cat yowled to be let loose, but didn’t really seem to put up much resistance when it was pressed between the girl and her father. They boarded the carrier together.

Pietro, Wanda, and Clint didn’t let you out of their sight, even after the carrier landed. You didn’t want to leave, you had barely spoken to Pietro, but you had thought that you would have  _ had _ to, at least for a bit, so the Avengers could debrief. Apparently, that was not the case. Even after all the rest of the civilians had disembarked, Pietro kept an hand on your shoulder, or elbow, or lower back until you had been led to an upper deck on the carrier. A deck that you came to see was full of Avengers and Shield agents.

“She ran off because she saw someone in trouble, but the person she saw was not actually visible from where we were standing.”

All eyes were on you.

“Ok, seriously? I am  _ not _ the strangest one here. Why are you all looking at me like I sprouted another head?” That comment drew a few laughs.

You discussed your clairvoyance for a while after that. You managed to avoid mentioning that the vision about Sokovia had been largely Pietro centered, and you didn’t mention the cuddling episode at all. You had been about to breathe a sigh of relief when you noticed Wanda giving you an odd look.

_ Telepathic? _ You thought while looking at her. She nodded, and you closed your eyes. You were sure a blush spread across your cheeks as you wrinkled your nose and dropped your head into your hands, but Wanda didn’t speak up. Pietro was by your side for the rest of the day, he seemed to think that when you had dropped you head in embarrassment, you had been in pain, and he’d taken in upon himself to keep an eye on you. It was sweet, but the number of times you had to hide your red face, or duck away from Wanda’s sly smile was going to be difficult to hide. 

…

Despite the ceaseless nicknames, you actually became comfortable with the Avengers. They were all sweet in their own way, though some were a bit more…  _ odd _ than others. They helped you. They kept you sane when you couldn’t tell what was a vision and what was reality. They held you together when you couldn’t save everyone, and they stopped you when you pushed yourself too far. Or, they tried to. Given that some of the other members pushed themselves too far on a regular basis  _ *cough cough* Tony and Steve *cough cough* _ , there wasn’t much room to talk. 

That was when Pietro came in. He would run up, grab you, and run somewhere else so fast that you weren’t able to see where you’d been taken. Sometimes that pissed you off, other times it brought you to tears, but either way, you let your emotions go. He’d hold you at your worst moments, and he sought you out when he was feeling at his worst too. 

You saved him, but he cared about you without knowing why. 

He was always the first person you wanted to talk to. When you told him good news, he’d smile and hug you tight. That was the script, every time. Until one time, it became a kiss.

You couldn’t even remember what it was that you were so excited to tell him, but you’d known he would want to hear, so you’d run into the kitchen to find him.

You could remember the expression on his face when you’d told him whatever it had been. You remembered him throwing his arms around you, picking you up, and spinning you in circles. When he set you back on your feet, you’d leaned into him as a wave of dizziness washed over you. When you’d looked up at him, laughing, you expected to see him smiling. Maybe he’d kiss your cheek, or your forehead, but instead he’d pressed his lips to yours. 

His kiss wasn’t forceful, but it was insistent. When he pulled away, you met his eyes, momentarily stunned. When he started to look worried and unsure, you snapped out of your daze. You smiled, and gave him a kiss of your own. When Pietro’s hands came up to frame your face, someone yelled, “get a room” and you broke the kiss, your face cherry red.

“Well yours is the closest, old man. Should we take that one?” Pietro asked without moving. One of his hands moved from your cheek to your waist when he felt you shifting away. He held you in place. Unable to leave, you pressed your face into Pietro’s chest and grumbled at him, though you smiled. 

It took you a while to tell Pietro about your vision about Sokovia, about him. Wanda had told you that she was sure Pietro wouldn’t care about the fact that your vision lead you to him. If anything, she thought it would make him believe in some sort of fate, but he would never think less of your relationship. After Wanda had helped you so much, after she had all but adopted you as her sister, you wanted to believe her. You wanted to believe her when she said her twin would understand. But could you?

Yes, as it turned out, you could. Pietro had been surprised, maybe a bit shocked, but not as shocked as you’d expected. He hadn’t pulled away.

You’d been near a nervous breakdown when you’d told him. Tears fell from your eyes and your hands shook. You loved him. Had loved him before he first kissed you.  _ Knew _ that you could love him before you’d even properly met him. You’d been terrified that telling him the truth of your vision would ruin what you had. But it hadn’t.

“Something brought you to me. I don’t care what it was, and I don’t care why. You’re here, and I have you. I wouldn’t wish any different.” He spoke to you quietly, soothed you, and dried your tears. When you’d exhausted yourself, he took you to bed, tucked himself in beside you and held you close.

…

You woke the next morning with a sense of deja vu, but you didn’t ponder the feeling long. Pietro wrapped an arm around your waist and rolled you so you were facing him, instead of away. He gave you a sleepy smile before he rolled again, pulling you onto his chest as he lay on his back. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling at his fuzzy, silver bedhead.

“Hi,” Pietro responded, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Good morning, my sibilӑ.”

Your chest warmed through at the name. He’d been calling you that from the moment you’d told him about the vision. “Sibilӑ”; clairvoyant.  _ His _ clairvoyant. You wouldn’t admit that you liked the name. It wasn’t all that different from Tony calling you “Ms. Cleo”. “You’re gonna have to stop calling me that eventually.”

“Which part? ‘Sibilӑ’? Now why would I do that? Your gift saved my life, and the lives of many others. I can’t see any reason I would not use a title that so aptly suits you. And ‘my’? Well, you  _ are _ mine, and that won’t be ending anytime soon, or  _ ever _ for that matter.” Pietro claimed in a playful grumble that matched your own.

He rolled the both of you over again, so your back was to the mattress with his body pressing down on yours.

“My sibilӑ.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled into the kiss, as your eyes welled up. “My Pietro,” you responded when the kiss broke.

Your vision had come true.  _ At least the good parts of it, _ you thought as Pietro smiled before pressing another, more insistent kiss to your lips.


End file.
